


Contact Swap

by dedkake



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Office, M/M, Office Sex, Power Dynamics, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedkake/pseuds/dedkake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles spends an entire day at the office texting his casual fuckbuddy increasingly dirty messages only to discover he's been texting his boss Erik all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contact Swap

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [this prompt](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/9701.html?thread=21202149#t21202149) on the kink meme. There are two other fantastic fills that you should all check out if you haven't already. Tidied this up as motivation to start writing for my [longfic bingo](http://longfic-bingo.livejournal.com/) card.

Charles stares at his empty inbox for a good five minutes, waiting for something to happen, anything to happen, before he minimizes the window. He hates slow days like this. There’s nothing to do, nothing whatsoever. He doesn’t even have solitaire anymore, since the company has recently removed all games from their computers after a complaint that they interrupted the work atmosphere. So Charles’ options are to sit and stare at his computer, waiting for any activity, or get up and ask someone if they need help with anything.

Instead, Charles grabs his phone out of his pocket, infinitely glad Raven hadn’t let him forget it this morning—he’d been in a rush, having overslept after Raven’s party last night. There are no messages on his phone, either, no texts and nothing to his private email. He tries to keep his groan quiet, dropping his head back in despair.

Charles opens his recent texts, scowling when he finds the list empty. Someone must’ve gotten ahold of his phone last night and deleted his messages in an attempt at a bad prank. It’s annoying, but Charles is pretty sure he hasn’t lost anything. He’ll have to talk to Raven about her friends later, but for now, he opens up a new message to Logan.

After glancing at his door to make sure it’s closed, Charles relaxes back in his chair. Squinting up at the ceiling, he tries to remember where they’d left off in their now deleted conversation. They haven’t hooked up in a few weeks, but Logan is surprisingly articulate when it comes to sexting, and Charles has found that it’s a great way to pass time at work (and out of work, and just about anywhere), even if he’s had to spend a little extra time in the bathroom on occasion.

Charles gives up trying to recall their last conversation and decides to start something new. He goes with simple.

_Hey, sexy._

Logan is usually quick to respond to Charles’ texts, so when ten minutes pass with nothing, Charles decides he needs to up the ante. Either Logan is just teasing him, waiting for more, or he deserves to come back to a phone full of well-worded texts from Charles.

_It’s so hot in here. I’m going to have to take off my shoes and tie._

_If you were here, you could help me with the buttons on my shirt. Go slow._

There’s no response five minutes later, and Charles decides to go all out. Kicking his shoes off, he stretches his legs out under his desk, sliding low in his chair and settling in.

_I’m trying to be quiet, so no one will hear, but even the thought of you coming through the door is making me hard_

_I’m sitting here at my desk with my hand down my pants_

_Thinking of your cock in my mouth_

_The door’s unlocked. Anyone could come in._

The email pings on his desktop, dragging his attention away from his phone to the screen. It’s from Erik, his direct supervisor, the subject containing an uncharacteristic exclamation point to convey the urgency of the message. Charles sighs deeply, straightening in his chair and smoothing his hair back. He has gotten fairly adept at switching between work and conversations with Logan, but it’s never an easy switch, to start work again.

It turns out that Erik wants him to reformat the document that Charles had submitted last night—the thirty page document Charles had submitted last night. Charles glares at his computer screen for a moment, cursing Erik’s perfectionist standards. Erik had been very specific about the formatting when he gave Charles the assignment earlier in the week, and now he’s changing those specifications after the fact. Charles tries not to hate his life.

He swears, loudly and without apology a moment later, when Erik sends him another email asking for a PowerPoint presentation along with the reformatted document.

Three hours of busy work and a lunch break later, Charles resubmits his work to Erik, all of it perfectly in line with Erik’s ridiculous demands. There are still no new emails in his inbox, again leaving him with nothing to do. Most disappointingly, Logan still hasn’t responded. Frustrated, Charles settles back down in his chair, kicks off his shoes once more, and pulls off his tie, unwritten dress code be damned.

_I’m ready for you now. There’s a space for you between my knees. Under my desk_ , he sends to Logan.

_I’m hard. Perfect for your mouth._ It’s true this time. Charles smiles and runs his palm down over his growing erection, still trapped in his trousers.

_I’d pull your hair back to watch you take my dick in your mouth._

_Fuck_. Charles says it out loud, too, almost letting himself get lost in the fantasy.

_I want to taste you too. Taste myself on your lips. Taste your cock._

There’s another email from Erik, this time asking him to go out and get more coffee for the lounge. Charles swears again, arousal fading fast. He’s not a fucking intern; it’s not his job to get coffee. But he can’t exactly tell Erik to fuck off, so he puts himself together again and storms out of the office to the store across the street.

When he returns, he makes no attempt to hide his anger from the rest of the office, dropping the coffee off in the lounge (where, he finds, there’s already quite a lot of coffee in stock), and returning to the quiet of his office where he can vent in private.

_I’ve been demoted, I think._ And it’s true, at least it has been for the past few hours.

_Pretty soon they’ll come and admit that they just have me here to look pretty and suck cock._ Closing his eyes, Charles lets himself imagine the many cocks in the office, most of which he has spent a great deal of time thinking about already.

_I bet they’d let me keep my office to give at least the illusion of privacy._

_So they can all fuck me and think they’re the only ones_

As much as Charles likes sexting Logan like this, it’s getting difficult to do on his own. He wishes he had Logan’s ideas to bounce off of, to stimulate himself with. But he’s stuck on his own because Logan still hasn’t responded.

_You could probably come too_

_I’d let you cut in line so you could be first. Unless you wanted to watch, of course_

Charles waits a few minutes on that one, because it’s the perfect place for Logan to jump in. And maybe, just maybe, he’s been getting Charles’ messages all along, looking for the best opportunity.

Ten more minutes, and nothing. Charles let’s out a defeated sigh. He’ll just have to finish this out himself, even if he’s pretty sure he’s not actually going to be able to get off on it, at least not here and now.

_You’d come in and shove me to my knees. Force me to suck your cock. And I’d love it._

For a few minutes, he mulls over what to say next, where to go. _But that wouldn’t be enough. You’d bend me over my desk next_

Charles types out _Get my ass in the air_ , but after he hits send, he doesn’t know what to do next. He really wishes he knew what kind of mood Logan was in. Running a hand along the inside of his thigh, Charles drops his phone on his desk and stares at it thoughtfully, waiting for inspiration to strike.

There’s a knock on his office door and Charles barely has time to jump in his seat before Erik is barging into his office, nearly slamming the door behind him.

“What the hell, Charles?” Erik demands, his face flushed and eyes wild as he waves his phone at Charles.

Charles can feel his own blush deepening, partly because his boss has just walked in on him and partly because his arousal isn’t flagging in the least—this is anything but a mood killer for him. Erik is hot, at least Charles has always thought so, even if he is a perfectionist and a jerk. And Charles has been flirting with Erik since forever, because Erik is a lot of things Charles wants in life and because Erik is so good at flirting back. And Erik is Charles’ _boss_ which is just all sorts of kinky in this situation. Well, he’s not exactly clear on what the situation is quite yet.

Swallowing thickly, Charles sits up straighter in his chair and says, “I’m sorry? Is there something wrong with your phone?”

Erik stares at him in baffled disbelief. “Something wrong with my _phone_? There’s nothing wrong with the _phone_ , just with what you’ve been sending me all day! What the hell is this?” Erik drops his phone onto Charles’ desk as he asks his last question, the screen lit up and angled so Charles can see.

There, on Erik’s phone, under Charles’ name, is the entire string of texts he’s sent to Logan throughout the day, and for a moment nothing makes sense to Charles, either. But then Charles realizes that, regardless of the explanation—which must have something to do with Raven’s party—he’s been sexting his boss for hours. His boss. His super sexy boss who also happens to be a stickler for rules. Sexting him without any explanation or prompting or—

Charles looks back up at Erik, his cheeks now burning with his embarrassment as Erik stares down at him, expression intense and unreadable.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, unable to say anything else.

Erik leans down over Charles’ desk, arms braced wide on the edge of it. “I don’t see how those text could be accidents. You were very clear about what you wanted,” he says, voice strained.

Blinking up at Erik, Charles finds his mind pleasantly blank. He can’t even begin to hash out a plan of escape because as much as he wants to explain himself and save his job, he wants Erik to act on every single one of the texts he sent. This whole thing is straight out of a porno except, Charles decides, in the porno it would be easier to know what to do—he’d just let Erik have his way with him, which isn’t exactly a bad idea.

“I thought I was sending those to someone else,” Charles says weakly, staring down at his own phone, which is still resting innocently under his fingers, Logan’s name bold at the top of the screen. Seriously, what the fuck?

Erik pales, all the color draining from his face, and Charles feels his heart sink. “Who?” Erik asks roughly, glancing down at Charles’ phone.

Licking his lips, Charles flips his phone over, suddenly wanting to spare Erik any humiliation of his own. “It’s nothing serious. We just,” he pauses, trying to find words for what he and Logan are to each other. “We just help each other out on slow days.”

Erik’s eyes jump back up to catch Charles’ gaze, his brow furrowing. “Is that it?” Erik asks, his voice still rough and deep. Charles realizes, then, that Erik isn’t just angry about the whole scandal, he’s _interested_ and now jealous on top of it.

“Yes,” Charles manages, trying and failing to ignore the way his pants have grown uncomfortable with Erik leaning over him like this. Needless to say, Charles is interested as well. He’s pretty sure he’d agree to anything to convince Erik of that.

“Fuck,” Erik breathes out, deflating slightly, shoulders rolling in. He closes his eyes and Charles shamelessly memorizes the sweep of his eyelashes. “I tried to get you to stop,” Erik says, opening his eyes to stare at Charles again.

The memories of Erik’s emails flutter across Charles’ mind, both of them at the most inconvenient of times, containing the most ridiculous demands. Charles almost laughs. “You could’ve actually responded to the texts,” he says, startled by how breathless he is.

“Would you have believed me, or would you have thought it was some new roleplaying kink your friend was trying out?” Erik asks.

Charles bites his lip against a denial, because that’s probably exactly what he would have thought. He almost misses the way that Erik’s eyes latch onto his teeth and lip, and releases his lip with more flare than necessary just to see Erik’s reaction, which is to momentarily stop breathing.

Confidence building with every passing second of Erik’s attention, Charles smiles and says, “You could’ve spoken to me face-to-face hours ago. I would have gotten the picture then.”

Erik’s jaw tightens as he considers his response, a pleasant roll of muscle and bone beneath his skin. “Then you would have stopped,” he says eventually, leaning lower over the desk, closing the distance between them.

“Why did you choose now, then? I was just getting to the good part,” Charles says, absently flipping his phone again to tap the surface.

A scowl pulling at his lips, Erik says, “You were taking too long and—” his voice catches in an obvious show of nerves and isn’t that just adorable, “—and I wanted to know if you were any good on follow through.”

Charles leans back in his chair, enjoying the way Erik’s gaze slides hungrily down his body, zeroing in on the obvious tent of his trousers. “What did you have in mind?”

“You’re the one with the ideas,” Erik says, grabbing Charles by the front of his shirt and pulling him forward.

They’re almost kissing, and Charles can tell Erik will cave to it with the slightest provocation. So, knocking his nose against Erik’s, Charles whispers, an overly dramatic rehash of his texts, “We’ll have to be quiet—anyone could walk in.”

Erik kisses him with a ferocity that is as expected as it is relished, and Charles lets himself be pulled forward into it, despite the hard line of his desk biting into his stomach. 

“Goddammit,” Erik groans against Charles lips. “When did my life become a porno?”

Charles laughs and pulls Erik’s lower lip into his mouth again. “If this were a porno, you would’ve done this on my first day. You would’ve had me over your desk in five minutes.”

Erik moans, dropping his lips to Charles’ neck, mouthing wetly at heated skin. Tipping his head back and running his fingers through Erik’s hair, Charles says, “I would’ve let you, if you’d tried. You were so fucking sexy that day, I would’ve let you do anything.”

“Shut up,” Erik growls, digging his teeth into Charles’ throat.

“Is that what you really want?” Charles asks around a quiet gasp.

“Fuck, no,” Erik grumbles, working at the buttons of Charles shirt. “Don’t stop talking.”

Charles snorts a laugh at that, and the pinch of reprimand Erik gives him is worth the blush that rises on Erik’s throat. “So demanding,” Charles says, helping Erik with his buttons. “But you are the boss, I guess. I couldn’t really stop you if this is what you wanted, not if I didn’t want to lose my job.”

Erik’s fingers freeze and he looks back up at Charles. “You could,” he says seriously, holding Charles’ fingers still when Charles tries to keep going. “If you don’t want this, you can tell me to stop and I will.”

“Of course I fucking could,” Charles hisses, squeezing Erik’s fingers. “Now shut up. You’re ruining it.”

Erik laughs this time, drawing Charles in for another kiss. “What was it you wanted?” Erik asks. “Did you want me on my knees under your desk? The boss at your service?” Charles groans at the thought, one he hasn’t previously entertained, but will continue to picture for the foreseeable future. “Or do you want me to spread you out over your desk and fuck you open where anyone could walk in and see?”

Charles slumps back in his chair, knees too weak to hold him. “Anything you want,” he says, letting go of Erik’s hands to rub impatiently at his trapped erection. “Everything you want.”

Erik stares at him, gaze hard and thoughtful despite his dilated pupils and heaving chest. “Alright,” he says, pushing himself up from leaning on Charles’ desk to sidestep around it, shedding his suit jacket as he goes.

Tense with anticipation, Charles starts to stand, but Erik pushes him back into his chair with a firm hand on his chest. Sliding to his knees in the bracket of Charles’ legs, Erik looks up to hold Charles’ gaze. “At your service,” he breathes.

“Shit,” Charles says, throat tight, trying not to come in his pants from the mere sight of Erik. “Fuck. What are you waiting for?”

Smirking, Erik runs his hands up the insides of Charles’ thighs, but leaves them there, resting warm and just shy of his cock. “I’m waiting for instructions,” Erik says, curling his fingers in a way that has his blunt nails leaving tingling trails on Charles’ skin.

Charles scrambles at the fastenings of his trousers, unable to stop the moan that tumbles out of his chest when he finally gets his hands on his cock. Erik isn’t looking at him anymore, his eyes fixed on Charles cock, tracking the movement of Charles fingers as he pulls a few strokes. “I want your hands on my cock,” Charles says, pleased that his voice is actually working.

Erik is quick to comply, licking his lips as he knocks Charles’ hands aside and replaces them with his own. His fingers are perfect, long and warm and pulling perfectly timed strokes. Charles moans again, struggling to keep his eyes open as he sinks lower in his chair, spreading his legs wider as he does.

“You stopped talking,” Erik says after a moment, close enough that Charles can feel his breath on his cock. _Fuck_.

“Fine,” Charles says, swallowing against a tight throat. He reaches forward to run his fingers through Erik’s hair, pulling him closer. “Do you do this for everyone in the office?” he asks. “You probably do. You knew just how to slide under my desk and you were so eager to get there. And you look perfect down there, did you know? You keep licking your lips like you can’t wait to get my dick in your mouth. You can’t, can you?”

Erik moans this time, his hands never faltering as he twists his head under Charles’ fingers, trying to mouth at Charles’ hand. Charles holds him steady, though, tightening his fingers in Erik’s hair enough that Erik winces and stills, turning his eyes back up to Charles’ face to glare at him. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a challenge clear in his eyes.

Smirking, Charles pulls Erik forward towards his cock. “That’s okay,” he says softly. “I can’t wait, either.”

Charles sits up straight again, keeping his legs wide as he readjusts himself. With his free hand, Charles reluctantly pulls Erik’s hands off his cock before tangling both hands in Erik’s hair. Hands free, Erik immediately lets one fall to palm at his own erection. He licks his lips again, this time slowly and deliberately, eyes fixed on Charles’ cock.

“Suck,” Charles chokes out, tugging Erik forward by his hair.

Erik goes willingly, humming around Charles’ cock as he does. His mouth is perfect and Charles has a hard time not collapsing over Erik, barely managing to keep himself upright as he clings to Erik’s hair more tightly. He can’t look away from the sight of Erik on his cock, especially not when Erik flicks his eyes up to watch Charles as he works.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” Charles says, breath catching when Erik’s eyes flutter at the praise. “And you look perfect with your mouth around my cock. You like it, too, don’t you?”

Erik nods his head in agreement, his eyes finally sliding shut at the harsh pull of Charles’ fingers in his hair. Charles moans, then, as he realizes Erik is pulling his own pants open to get at his cock. “You like it that much?” Charles gasps, forcing himself to find words. “You could really get off from this?”

Erik pulls off of Charles’ cock to run his lips down the side and catch his breath. Charles lets him, fascinated by the motion of Erik’s arm as he continues to work himself. “You’ve been teasing me all fucking day,” Erik slurs out, not unkindly. “You’ve been teasing me since the day you walked in the door—with your red mouth and your tight pants and that fucking accent of yours.”

Smirking at the thought of Erik squirming in his office day after day, Charles lets up on his grip on Erik’s hair, running his fingers through it instead. Erik tips his head back into the caress and moans, the motion of his arm slowing slightly.

“Well, I’m not going to let any of that go to waste,” Charles says, tugging Erik forward again. He moans at the slide of his cock against Erik’s cheek before Erik opens his mouth and twists to catch it once more.

It doesn’t take much longer for Charles to completely give up on stringing words together, the flow of his commentary devolving into wordless moaning and Erik’s name. He doesn’t stop watching, though, refuses to let himself close his eyes and ride it out without the sight of Erik on his knees before him.

“I’m going to come,” he manages to say, when he’s almost there, and Erik simply groans and keeps going.

“Fuck,” Charles whines, tugging Erik back. “Erik, I want to come on your face.”

Erik smirks as he lets himself be pulled back, stopping to lick just around the head of Charles’ cock, and Charles can’t hold it back any longer. He comes with a loud moan, streaking Erik’s tongue and face with it—another image he’s not likely to forget any time soon.

Charles wants to bask in the afterglow forever, running his fingers through Erik’s hair until he falls asleep, but the quick jerking of Erik’s shoulder pulls him into action.

“Let me help you with that,” he mumbles, not sure that it comes out as a coherent sentence, but beyond caring. He slides the floor in front of Erik, shoving his chair back as far as it will go and pushing Erik back against the backboard of the desk, descending to take Erik’s cock into his mouth. Erik lets out a string of curses, not letting up the motion of his hand as Charles sucks, his fingers meeting Charles’ lips and tongue on every up stroke.

Dropping his head back against Charles’ desk, Erik comes, a deep, contented groan rumbling through him as he does. Charles smiles as he swallows Erik down, milking him through it as Erik lets his hand fall away.

“That was lovely,” Charles says as soon as he has his breath back, rolling off of Erik’s lap to lie next to him on the floor.

Erik grunts something that sounds like agreement and Charles twists to see his face again. Erik is still flushed and smeared with come and Charles swallows down another wave of arousal. “Someone’s going to notice you’re missing, soon,” he says instead of leaning up to kiss Erik like he wants.

“Fuck them,” Erik growls, but sits up anyway, pulling himself out from under Charles’ desk. Charles props himself up on his elbows so he can watch Erik clean himself up with tissues from the box Charles keeps on his desk. His office smells like sweat and come and Charles can’t bring himself to care because it also smells like Erik’s cologne and he’s just had the best office blowjob of his life—there have been several, but nothing like this.

Doing up his pants and pulling on his jacket again, Erik glances down at Charles and says, “Thanks, I guess.” There’s still a flush riding high on his neck, so Charles can forgive him the inadequate comment.

“Next time you’re frustrated,” Charles calls as Erik disappears around his desk to open the door, “come and see me instead of sending me out to get extra coffee.”

Erik slams the door loudly in response.

Charles grins and reaches up to grab his phone. He makes a note to thank Raven and her friends for messing with his contact list before setting to work checking that every name is matched with its correct number.

Before he leaves for the evening, Charles sends one last text to Erik, this time intentionally.

_Next time you better bend me over your desk and fuck me hard. I’m ready for your gorgeous cock in my ass._


End file.
